


Hellbound

by Silverwing26, soulless_lover



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Ciel Phantomhive is a Brat, Demon Sex, Growling, M/M, Mind Games, OHAI WE'RE BACK, Oral Sex, Playing With Hellfire, Poor Sebastian, Power Play, Riding Crops, Rope Bondage, Sex Games, Shota, Smut and Popcorn, Spanking, Teasing, Your Demon Is Showing, yoooooooo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-17 14:02:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8146807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/pseuds/Silverwing26, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/pseuds/soulless_lover
Summary: “Well, then, answer me this, devil…” He tilted his head slightly, watching Sebastian’s face shift from smug to somewhat wary, and asked in the tone of one throwing down a gauntlet: “Do you want to play a game with me, Sebastian?”   soulless_lover as Cunning Game Master Evil Little Shit Tyrannical Bratling CielSilverwing26 as Hapless Pawn The Oldest Poor Old Bastard On Earth Total Sucker For Dangerous Games Sebastian





	1. Into the Darkness

Sebastian wheeled the tea cart into Ciel’s room and discovered his small master lying on the bed in his nightshirt, reading a very old tome with archaic symbols on the spine. “I’ve brought your bedtime snack, Young Master.”

“Mmm,” Ciel replied, eyes glued to his book, and turned the page.

Sebastian turned away and began to lift the silver covers from the dishes, more to hide his smile than out of any real desire to give his master yet another dose of sugar before bed. “That’s an unusual selection for a bit of bedtime reading, Young Master.”

Ciel didn’t seem surprised in the slightest to learn his butler had noticed such a thing - he’d have been more surprised if the old crow _hadn’t_ , honestly. “Yes, and it involves reading quite a bit more Latin than I’d really prefer, but as I don’t have to read it _aloud,_ it’s somewhat more bearable.” He took one of the petit-fours from the plate Sebastian offered him and bit into it with a dark little laugh. “Reading aloud from _that_ book would probably be a very poor choice anyway,” he said, dropping a few crumbs on the duvet as he chewed.

Sebastian arched a brow as the crumbs fell and exhaled an amused little breath. “Yes, I imagine it would lead to some interesting results.” He moved around to the side of the bed and attempted to regain his professional composure. “Where on earth did you find that book?” He curled a finger in front of his jaw in thought. _Young Master’s library is apparently much more extensive than I realized._

Ciel closed the book and set it aside, then turned back to flash a truly wicked smile at the demon. “I borrowed it… from Undertaker.” He had indeed, and his dignity had paid that creepy old deviant dearly for the privilege, though the surprise and vexation that flashed across Sebastian’s face at the admission made it rather more worth it. 

“Ah, I see,” Sebastian replied, caught a bit off-guard - which of course did not go unnoticed by either party.

The boy raised a teasing eyebrow in imitation of his butler’s bewildered expression. “What’s on your mind, Sebastian?”

For the second time that evening, Sebastian’s brow rose in surprise. It was quickly replaced by a look subtly resembling exasperation. He cleared his throat and looked into that mischievous face, and the butler couldn’t help but contemplate for a moment: _Why does he never ask me this question when I am thinking of dinner preparations or planning the list of duties I must ensure are performed properly for the day?_ He became concerned that his silence spoke more plainly than he ever did with his own carefully-chosen words, so he opened his mouth to proper some response that would fulfil his Young Master’s question and the stipulation that he not lie - but the image of the boy’s impish smile and bare little legs invaded his mind... and so he remained silent, searching for a refined way to imply his thoughts were less than pure. For this, it seemed, had become a favourite game between the two of them: to see who could force licentious words from whose mouth first. 

Ciel sat up, folded his arms, and prompted in a playfully indignant tone: “Hm. Not to put too fine a point on it, Sebastian, but did I stammer?”

Sebastian blinked, bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, and answered with as straight a face as possible, “No, Young Master, you did not.”

“And I _am_ speaking the Queen’s English, correct?”

“Yes, Young Master, I can understand you perfectly well.” He was having greater difficulty keeping his businesslike facade from shattering, but he soldiered on.

“Oh, good, because I was beginning to worry for a moment there that we were having trouble communicating, and I was going to have to resort to hand signals or holding up a slate.”

Sebastian wondered briefly just how the boy would’ve rendered _What’s on your mind, Sebastian_ in pictogram form, but aloud he only said, “I don’t believe that will be necessary, Young Master.”

Ciel rose up on his knees and took hold of Sebastian’s cravat, pulling it until the devil was bent forward and Ciel’s breath was warming the shell of his ear. “Good. So then tell me, demon…” He paused to lick Sebastian’s earlobe, nipped it so roughly the butler suspected he’d pierced it, and then slowly, deliberately purred: _“What’s… on… your… mind?”_ Each word was punctuated with a lick and a light, taunting kiss.

Sebastian stifled the near-groan that escaped him before turning his head ever so slightly to allow the boy better access to the area he was currently licking. “Nnng...” The devil licked his lips before pulling back just far enough to look into Ciel’s face. He felt the lingering heat of the boy’s kisses, and the weight pulling against his cravat, but it was the mental image of the devious little creature running that soft tongue over various other parts of his anatomy that had him growing stiff in his trousers. “At the moment, Young Master,” he managed as his lips curled at the corners, “your _tongue_ is at the forefront of my imagination.”

“Is it really?” Ciel asked in a voice full of feigned shock. “Well, that can’t be the _only_ thing on your mind - surely someone such as yourself must be planning and plotting and scheming all manner of evil things at once.” Even the steadfast little Earl couldn’t keep from laughing as he said the words, which made Sebastian laugh as well - but then the boy reached up, stroked his butler’s cheek, and murmured: “Perhaps one day, you’ll let me see your true form.”

Sebastian frowned in dismay, but before he could launch into full-on _please-don’t-ask-me-for-something-I-cannot-fulfill_ mode, Ciel continued, “But as I understand it, seeing you in your true form would drive me mad for some reason, so I suppose we can’t have that.” His mouth pursed into something that was half contemplation and half pout before he added in a petulant sort of way, “Though _why_ it’s supposed to drive me mad, I’m not sure. My fragile human mind can’t comprehend the enormity of… _you_ , or some such, I suppose?”

The devil’s _enormity_ aside, the boy’s assessment was rather close to the mark and Sebastian chuckled lightly. “Young Master, I was made for you at the sealing of our contract…” He paused briefly before continuing: “...and we are not meant to be seen in our... _natural_ form.” He watched his little Lord’s face slowly turn from charmingly petulant to dangerously intrigued. “It is difficult to explain in... mortally comprehensible terms.”

If it had been possible for Ciel to fold his arms harder, he would have done so. “Do try, Sebastian, lest I think you consider my fragile human mind too dim to even hazard an attempt.”

Seeing his _previous_ attempt was clearly not enough of an answer, Sebastian tried again, striving for a way to answer his Master’s question within the confines of his human experience. “Humans are very good at seeing what they wish to see.” He paused, chuckled, and carried on with a smirk: “They are also very good at seeing what they wish _not_ to see.”

Ciel snorted ungracefully. “As usual, Sebastian, you manage to say something perfectly true that answers my question not one whit. That doesn’t make it any less true, of course, but it’s so very neutral, so… _noncommittal_. ‘It might rain, but of course it might not as well’... Honestly, Sebastian, must I command you to give me a straightforward answer and not be so bloody vague every time I pose a question to you?”

Sebastian crossed his arms as if in thought and then simply stated, “No, Young Master.” He chuckled lightly at the boy’s expression as he failed to furnish a more precise answer. The demon had no doubts that should the evening continue this way, it was certain to become very interesting.

The little Earl was just about to tell his butler where he could stick his uncooperative attitude - and then his exasperated scowl slid into a slow, cunning smile. “Well, then, answer me this, devil…” He tilted his head slightly, watching Sebastian’s face shift from smug to somewhat wary, and asked in the tone of one throwing down a gauntlet: “Do you want to play a game with me, Sebastian?”

 _Oh dear, what have I gotten myself into?_ the demon wondered, but aloud he merely replied, “And what sort of game had you in mind, Young Master?” His eyes seemed to glitter as he studied his small Lord’s face; it _could_ have been a trick of the light, just the flickering of the candles on Ciel’s bedside table reflecting in his demonic eyes... but this look had passed between them many times before, and they were both keenly aware that with the asking of the question - the game had already begun.

Ciel’s smile sharpened into a sly grin. “Here are the rules of this game, Sebastian: firstly, you must take your true form.” Seeing the demon open his mouth to protest, the boy held up a hand to silence him and went on: “Second, if it is dangerous for me to see you as such, then I shall be blindfolded for the duration of the game.” Sebastian blinked in surprise but said nothing, so Ciel continued, “Third, I will not touch you anywhere you do not wish me to - but if you invoke this rule, you must tell me _why_.”

“I place no such restrictions on you, Young Master,” Sebastian began in a magnanimous sort of way, but the little Earl clapped a hand firmly over the demon’s mouth.

“Be quiet, Sebastian!” His tone was more haughty than huffy, but still brooked no denial. “I asked if you wanted to _play_ a game with me, not _invent_ one. My game, my rules. Is that perfectly clear?” He withdrew his hand, and Sebastian nodded.

“Yes, Young Master.”

“Good. Now that we’ve established _that_ much…” His visible eye glimmered mischievously. “Fourth, I will not have an unrestrained demon in my bed - therefore, before I don my blindfold, I shall bind you securely to the bedposts with rope.”

 _“Oh?”_ The shocked look on Sebastian’s face was truly something to behold, and long after the game was finished, Ciel would often conjure the image of it when he was in a bad mood, cherishing it like a beloved stuffed toy that filled him with warmth.

“Yes,” the boy very nearly chirped, his grin becoming rather unnerving to his hapless butler. “Furthermore, as I have no delusions concerning your ability to escape, you will _not_ break your bonds. You will also do no damage to the bed, to me, nor to yourself. You will remain bound until I choose to release you - that’s an order. Do you understand, devil?”

Sebastian’s eyes flared with hellfire as he intoned, “Yes, My Lord.”

“Good. Now fetch a carriage rope from the stables… and a riding crop.”

“I _beg_ your pardon, Young Master…?” Sebastian questioned, finding the amount of times he was taken with surprise that evening to be escalating quickly. 

Ciel smirked. “Not to put too fine a point on it, Sebastian, but _did I stammer?”_

The old devil coughed to cover a laugh of astonishment. “No, Young Master, you did not.”

“And I _am_ speaking the Queen’s English, correct?”

“Yes, Young Master, I can understand you perfectly well.”

“Then stop stalling and fetch me what I requested!” The Earl pointed an imperious finger in the general direction of the carriage house. “Go!”

The devil’s brows rose in unison before he managed with some effort to school his expression into one of businesslike neutrality before he simply replied, “Yes, My Lord.” The butler bowed and then turned on his heel to retrieve the requested items. 

The devil was quite skilled at games. He did afterall sustain his unholy existence by tricking and fooling and promising mortals whatever they wanted to attain that which he coveted himself: their souls. This boy, however, was an opponent unlike any other he had faced in his many long years. He contemplated this notion as he gathered a sufficient length of rope from the carriage house and then headed back to the office where he tutored Ciel; he opened his desk drawer and withdrew from it the very well cared for, very well used, black riding crop. 

Sebastian could think of several scenarios in which such an implement might come into play, and the truth was, he wasn’t entirely sure he was fond of any of them. However, he was not one to forfeit such an _interesting_ game, so he tucked the crop under his arm and returned to his master’s chambers. 

Ciel was in the midst of laying out a wide silk cravat to use as a blindfold when Sebastian returned; hearing the butler’s polite knock on the door, he called out to bid the demon to enter, then positively lit up with delight at the sight of the objects he’d brought. “Excellent. Now bring them to me.” Sebastian did as he was told, and Ciel took them, then climbed up onto the bed and patted the very center of it, as if he were summoning a dog. “Lie here, on your back, and put your arms out to the sides.”

“Yes, Young Master.” Sebastian did so, but not before thoughtfully removing his shoes so as not to dirty the freshly-laundered coverlet. As he assumed the commanded position, he couldn’t help being reminded of the pose of one being crucified, which amused him a great deal, but Ciel was too busy climbing over him and tying him to the bedposts to notice.

“My knots are likely a bit clumsy,” the boy admitted, finishing up a very poorly-done square knot, “but under the circumstances, I doubt it matters much.” He took a moment to revel in the sight of his very proper, very elegant, very _annoying_ butler, bound and effectively helpless, then removed his eyepatch and tied the cravat around his own head, obscuring his vision. “Very well, then, Sebastian - assume your true form.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHAI. WE'RE BACK.
> 
> There is much, much more to come... as it were. More tags will be added with later chapters so as not to spoil all the fun surprises in store.
> 
> Thank you so much to all our readers who have waited so patiently for us to write something new, and to all the newcomers: WELCOME TO THE PARTY BUS TO THE SPECIAL HELL. Have a seat, buckle up, and enjoy the ride. We have cookies. And porn.


	2. Playing With Hellfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian drank in the sight of his Young Master with the fevered ferocity of a man lost in the desert stumbling upon an oasis; his teeth gnashed together as he clawed his way through the haze clouding his mind, and the Faustian mark seared with such intensity that he shuddered with the sensation. Oh, how this "child" enjoyed playing with hellfire - and as a result, Sebastian’s voice was nearly broken and laced with hoarfrost.

There was a rustling noise, as of thousands of dry leaves blowing in a fierce gust of wind; a creeping chill filled the room; Ciel heard a creaking sound, like the boughs of an old oak swaying in a thunderstorm; and as tendrils of despair and darkness lapped at his vulnerable body, gooseflesh rose across the entire surface of his skin. “Are… are you ready?” he asked, struggling to control the rising sense of panic welling up in him at the thought of the unholy monster lying scant inches away, restrained only by a feeble man-made hempen rope and the devil’s own aesthetics.

Sebastian watched as the boy’s arrogant smile fell, replaced with something akin to nervousness; and as the demon’s aura caressed Ciel’s body, Sebastian chuckled very softly and every fiber of his false humanity vibrated as it dissipated. Then, with a voice full of treachery and heat, he replied in an inhuman growl, _**“Yes, Young Master.”**_

Ciel suppressed a shudder at the unnatural cadence of the devil’s voice and slowly, cautiously, reached out with one slightly trembling hand; his fingertips brushed against the place where he thought Sebastian’s abdomen would be, but instead of the soft, warm fabric of his butler’s waistcoat, he felt something cold and smooth, like leather stretched taut. He swallowed hard and forced himself to explore further, running his hand upward across that leathery expanse until it met something hard and metallic - a buckle? His fingers sought out the edges of it, following it to the strap threaded through it - yes, a buckle, securing a band of leather, like a narrow belt - and when his questing hand moved higher, he found another, and then another. Growing braver, he reached out with both hands this time, searching out details and clues; beneath the leather, he felt hard, vertical ridges, like the whalebones in a corset, which both fascinated and repelled him. _Sebastian_ , in a woman’s corset? No, not a woman’s corset, as no human woman he could think of would ever wear such a thing; and as it was part of Sebastian’s natural - or unnatural, as the case may be - form, surely it couldn’t be a garment of some sort. _Perhaps,_ he thought, _I can only assume it’s a corset because that’s all my human mind can equate it with._

Sebastian said nothing, only laughed a bit, the sound of it like rolling summer thunder. 

Emboldened by the devil’s apparent amusement and passiveness, Ciel crawled closer, his hands curiously roaming over Sebastian’s torso, and when he finally reached the edge of the “corset” and discovered a new texture above it, he nearly jumped with shock - for he had found the bare skin of the demon’s chest. 

It was colder than expected and perfectly smooth, like marble weathered to a lustrous sheen; touching it sent thrilling little pulses up his arms and into his own chest, making his heart flutter momentarily, and although it was surely just his human mind trying to make sense of an inhuman sensation, the boy had the distinct impression that the surface of Sebastian’s skin was _moving_ \- not due to breathing or twitching or anything else that would normally cause one’s skin to move, but more like a fog made tangible, somehow shifting and solid at the same time. It was both alluring and horrifying, and for once, the Earl of Phantomhive had no idea what to say.

Then, as he reached toward Sebastian’s shoulder, steeling himself for what new monstrosity he might locate, his hand came across a familiar and surprisingly delightful texture. “Oh,” he whispered, his soft, breathy voice brimming with something very much like awe, “you _do_ have feathers.”

Sebastian watched with hungry anticipation as the boy’s small hand explored his torso. Every sensation was magnified, and every detail of his small Master’s form, long ago burned into his consciousness, came into even sharper contrast. He growled softly as Ciel’s warm fingers tentatively brushed over his skin. His tongue, no longer the proper shape for forming human words, brushed against the back of his fangs as his lips parted in a malevolent smile. 

The devil’s feathers ruffled at the light touch, and the tendrils of black ether that coiled outwards from his body wrapped about the boy’s fingers and down his arms, letting the unholy beast taste his master’s curiosity, his awe, and heightening the devil’s arousal even further; his garnet eyes swirled with bloody hellfire, and in the center his bottomless pupils were vertical slits, darker than ink. 

_**“...Yes…”**_ he managed to say, and the voice that reached Ciel’s ears was bleak and sharp, like black ice with the sound of lonely winds whispering through it. He nearly chuckled at the sound and the way it sent gooseflesh rising along Ciel’s delicate limbs. 

Ciel couldn’t help the tremor that ran up his spine and made his shoulders quiver; his thoughts were a confusing jumble of emotion, reason, logic, terror, and arousal, and the fact that he couldn’t see a damn thing made the situation seem all the more perilous - and enticing. He wasn’t particularly fond of the raw, gnawing fear that was coiling itself deep in his gut, so to assert more control over the situation - and thus bolster his nerves - he threw a leg over Sebastian, straddling his narrow waist, and sat atop him. Although this action would normally be his go-to when he was trying to regain the upper hand, it backfired spectacularly when the bare skin of his most intimate parts came into contact with the devil’s cold body, causing him to yelp in a most undignified way and jerk upward slightly. _“Ah!”_

The sharp, delightful sound of the boy’s cry had the demon chuckling in his bonds. It was fleeting, the feeling of his little Lord coming to straddle his body, but the sensation was tantalising nonetheless. The devil flexed his wrists and he felt the ropes strain, Ciel’s unpracticed knots valiantly holding against the beast’s inhuman form. _Good,_ he thought, the image of the small boy flooding his mind so thoroughly that stringing more than a few human words together - even mentally - was a challenge. He waited a heartbeat longer and then bent his legs, forming a hellish throne with his own body for his curious little imp to seat himself on, should he be able to brave the chill that permeated the fiend. The emotions swirling through Ciel were delicious, they were palpable, they were fine notes of flavour in the dish saved for last, and the devil was nearly salivating with the desire to hear Ciel whimpering and panting with his name falling from his lips, and the boy’s blood anointing his tongue. 

Embarrassed by his instinctive reaction, Ciel lowered his hips again, determined not to allow the demon even an ounce more smug satisfaction than truly necessary so early in the game... and to his surprise, he found the longer he withstood the cold against his tender skin, the less frigid it felt. Although it seemed as though he should have expected such a thing to happen - cold things warming to the touch being a perfectly normal occurrence - he had assumed that Sebastian’s body was somehow _made_ of coldness, and that it would simply continue to be so, devouring all heat it encountered and swallowing it up, never to be felt again.

And then, quite suddenly, the chill became something rather different: it was still cold, yes - but it was less of an unpleasant sensation and more of a… caress. Soothing, sliding, almost tickling, like rivulets of water running over his inner thighs and along the cleft between his buttocks, and despite the awful human fear that still threatened to make Ciel lose his resolve and forfeit the game, his small cock began to harden. “Oh,” he breathed, the sound half gasp, half moan. “You’re so _cold_...” Immediately after the words left his lips, he felt foolish for having stated the obvious, and because he was certain Sebastian was smirking at him even though he couldn’t see the devil’s face - did his true form even _have_ a face, let alone a mouth to smirk with? - the boy laid down flat on the demon’s torso in an attempt to hide the furious blush staining his cheeks. The result of this was an instant, icy rush that penetrated his thin nightshirt and stiffened his nipples into hard little peaks that tingled and ached. “Mmmnnnn….”

The boy’s heat was intoxicating. He was a bright, hot little ember burning in the midst of the utter darkness that was the demon as he lay prone and tied to his Master’s bed. He chuckled, and it was cold and seemed to cling to the curtains hanging from the posts of Ciel’s bed, like dew that had frozen before the sun could evaporate it. His lips parted in amusement and curled into a wicked grin; it was the kind of thing found on leering jack-o-lanterns, the exact sort of smile one hopes they don’t see when they gaze out of the window on a dark night after one too many penny-dreadfuls. The demon felt the weight of the boy along his slender body and could taste Ciel’s mounting arousal with each breath he exhaled. The beast involuntarily strained against his bonds as those hard little nipples pressed against him, and with devilish glee, he rolled his hips ever so slightly, pressing his hardening length against the boy’s small warm body. 

It was with some frustration that the beast reminded himself of the rules. _Restrain..._ he thought as he forced himself back against the pillows, fighting the urge to break free and have the tender, teasing little creature at his mercy. _**“Young… Master…”**_ he growled softly over Ciel’s hair, rustling the feathers near the boy’s ears. The fiend licked his lips, savoring the taste of the boy’s title on his tongue. _Ah, nearly perfect,_ he thought before Ciel moved again and his senses were once more lost to demonic instinct.

Ciel sat up, his buttocks pressing downward firmly into the smooth, gelid ridge growing harder beneath his weight. “Se- _bastian_!” he exclaimed in an indignant, scolding tone, and the demon suspected that if the boy had been able to see where to aim he’d have been slapped across the face. “Don’t you thrust against me so boldly! How dare you take such liberties!” He leaned back a bit, resting against Sebastian’s raised thighs as if he were reclining on a chaise, folded his arms, and glared as balefully as he could into the darkness behind his blindfold.

_**”My… apologies… Young Master...”**_ Sebastian began, but Ciel would have none of it.

“Shut up! You’re not a bit sorry, you wicked thing!” After a moment of sulky deliberation - during which said “wicked thing” laid there gazing up at his petulant little judge, awaiting the guilty verdict with great amusement - the boy finally sighed, unfolded his arms, and pronounced sentence: “I suppose I shall have to _make_ you sorry, or else you’ll forever be overstepping your bounds.” Pushing Sebastian’s legs down into their previous position, he climbed off of his butler and crawled across the bed blindly, reaching for the riding crop he’d left by the side.

_Would… he… really?_ the fiend wondered, seeing his cruel little lord reaching for the “teaching” implement. He subconsciously shifted his weight as the boy moved and found himself pulling against the fragile human-made ropes. They had done a fine job of holding thus far, but truthfully the demon had put little, if any, strength into pulling against them. How would they hold should his Lord actually try whipping him? His teeth elongated further in his jaw, coming to rest on his bottom lip, and he put forth great effort into stifling the growl that was building in his chest. Even in this heightened state the beast was well aware that would likely exacerbate the situation. Were he to fulfill the rules of the game, there was little he could do but lie there and receive whatever punishment the boy had settled upon to chastise him with. He knew it perfectly well and the ropes and bedposts creaked in protest as he struggled to maintain his passivity. 

Crawling on all fours away from Sebastian put Ciel in a decidedly exposed position, and as he groped across the coverlet for the crop, he could have sworn the icy tendrils enveloping him were somehow giving him lewd tickles and squeezes… though it was surely his imagination. Still, he couldn’t help but moan as his erection stiffened further, and the swirling darkness vibrated softly in response, sending little thrills of pleasure throughout his entire body. This made it rather more difficult for him to focus on the task at hand, which he suspected the captive devil behind him was enjoying quite a bit.

His hand finally fell upon the leather-wrapped handle of the crop and seized it gratefully; turning back toward Sebastian, he crawled across the mattress, following the beckoning cold as it grew in intensity, and when he reached the demon again he sat back on his heels and pulled off his nightshirt. “Now then,” the little tyrant began, brandishing the crop, and the cold surged around his nude body as though he’d just opened an ice chest. “I think the best place to start would be… here.” He raised up onto his knees, moved forward until his thighs bumped Sebastian’s hip, and then laid himself facedown over the devil’s lap, his flat belly warm and velvety against the cold, smooth phallus trapped beneath him. “Yes,” he purred throatily, rubbing his own erection against what he thought was _probably_ Sebastian’s hipbone, “I think this is the _perfect_ place to start.” He raised his hips a bit higher, accentuating the soft curve of his buttocks, and wriggled just enough to elicit a strangled growl from the monster he was provoking.

The devil’s eyes flared with malice, and he knew from the icy hot pulsing that seared the back of his left hand that the boy could deeply _feel_ the effect he was having. His lips curled, and a feral, silent snarl settled upon his lips, replacing the usual smirk - until the boy laid himself across his lap. 

_Hnng_ was about the most intelligible sound the fiend could produce, and his body tensed as the soft, warm weight covered his lap. His hellishly hot breath came in a rasping exhale as he practically feasted on the sight of Ciel’s bare body and enticing movements. Oh, how he loved to have his flinty young master in this position, naked and pressed against his own hard length with that aristocratic little backside so exposed. However, the torment of not being able to act upon such a vision was maddening and he leaned forward, pulling against the ropes. Ciel’s head turned towards him, his obscured gaze managing to burn into the devil just as surely if he were issuing a command, and he forced himself to lie back again lest he break the carefully crafted rules meant to keep him helpless. His erection throbbed beneath Ciel and he chuckled softly, wondering if that too would be an infraction - and what exactly the boy had in mind next. 

“I can feel you straining against your bonds, you know,” Ciel informed the panting demon, a small, teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth; he wriggled again, and Sebastian’s cock twitched beneath him. “I can feel _this_ straining, as well.” He snickered evilly. “Oh, yes, you’d _like_ to touch me, wouldn’t you, Sebastian?” He rocked and undulated, pushing his hips higher still, rolling and writhing and tormenting until the devil snarled with frustration. “Oh, poor old thing,” Ciel taunted, reaching back with one arm to stroke his own buttocks with the crop, the black tongues of the keeper gently lapping at his milky skin. “You’d _love_ to whip me with this, wouldn’t you? Answer me!”

Sebastian gritted his increasingly more elongated teeth. _**“Yes…”**_

“Yes, I thought you would,” the boy crooned, “but you _can’t_.” And with that, he raised the crop and brought it down on one buttock with a sharp snap. “Ah!” he gasped - more for show than anything else, as he really hadn’t struck himself very hard, but the loud growl that ripped out of Sebastian’s throat made it clear that it had had the desired effect. “You _want_ to hurt me, don’t you, Sebastian?” Another blow, this one a bit harder, making his fair skin flush a tender pink. “Ah!”

_**”Yes…”**_ Sebastian growled again, and despite all his efforts to the contrary, his hips rolled once more, his cock aching for the touch of his beautiful, evil little overlord of a Master. Oh, yes, he wanted to hurt the devious little creature, he wanted to whip his pale perfect skin rosy until welts formed and the boy writhed with exquisite pain. He wanted to bite into that succulent flesh until Ciel’s blood coated his tongue and the spice of the boy’s soul coursed through his demonic veins; he wanted to drag his talons down those thin coltish legs until the boy arched and cried out... _And then,_ he thought, _I would drown you in pleasure… until all reason has fled from you._

The beast’s heels dug into the mattress beneath him as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control; unable to tear his unholy gaze from the boy, he failed to notice the tiny black feathers that were beginning to drop from thin air to land among the pillows. _Harder,_ he thought as the crop came down again, the sound ringing in his ears, and as the muscles of his thighs tensed, those long sharp fangs bit into his own lip, drawing forth droplets the color of onyx.

Ciel dealt himself several blows in rapid succession, and when the stinging sensation became too much to bear, he laid the crop across Sebastian’s trembling abdomen, then reached back to touch one sore, burning buttock, stroking it gingerly with his fingertips. “Ohh… Sebastian...” He sucked in a breath as he gave one of the mounds a squeeze, his fingers digging into the hot flesh. “Ah! Oh… oh, it… it _hurts_ , Sebastian…” 

The demon was no longer able to regulate his ragged breathing, and with each exhale a soft, gravelly growl echoed in his throat. _**”Good…”**_ he managed to choke out around the bestial noises. His highly aroused state was making it increasingly difficult to continue to answer in proper English words. The tendrils of ether that coiled about his body crept forward once more, and as they slid over Ciel’s thoroughly whipped flesh, Sebastian groaned and his cock grew so stiff it was painful. 

His knees bent and the mattress springs beneath them let out a little creak, as though the weight of the butler’s desire was too much for them, and his body reacted on instinct to his little Master’s seduction. He was no longer sure how long he would be able to maintain his personal restraint in this state. He was not in danger of freeing himself, not yet at least, but even through the haze of his excitement, he was fairly certain the boy would not want him to spend without being given leave to do so. As Ciel’s soft stomach rubbed and stimulated him, Sebastian began to have serious doubts about being able to withstand much more of the delightfully hellish torture without disgracing himself. 

Hearing the animalistic, nearly desperate sounds the devil was making, Ciel couldn’t help but laugh; his butler - the calmest and most unflappable butler in the history of English butlers - was losing his carefully-maintained self-control, and it was all because of _him_. How incredibly gratifying! The Earl picked up the crop, giggling wickedly at the way Sebastian’s breath hitched when he did so, and rose to an upright kneeling position. “Why, Sebastian, you seem rather ill at ease,” he remarked, smirking. He searched about with his free hand until he found the demon’s thigh, then pulled it towards him until he felt Sebastian obey the silent command to spread his legs; once he was certain there was enough room, he climbed over and settled himself down comfortably between those long limbs. “What’s on your mind, devil?” he asked in a playful tone, reaching out blindly to trail the crop downward along Sebastian’s torso.

The devil’s legs had parted without conscious thought, which was fortunate because logic and reason were quickly abandoning Sebastian. _**”...More…”**_ he said, and hearing his own voice so full of heat and deviance, he chuckled and his abdomen shivered where the tongue of the crop brushed along his body. _**”...of you… Young Master…”**_

How was he to tell his fiery, teasing little Lord what he desired? How was he to explain that he ached for release so badly that his mind’s eye was simply overrun with images of Ciel, on his back, on his knees, across the butler’s thighs, bent harshly over the bed, wrists bound, knees parted, bitten and bruised and weak from the infernal pleasure the demon wished to visit upon him? How was Sebastian to tell him that he wanted nothing more than to fuck him so thoroughly that nothing else existed in the boy’s world save the demon? 

_**”...More…”**_ he said again, and the talons that itched to draw cries of agony and ecstasy from Ciel flexed into the demon’s own palms. 

“Not exactly the most erudite of answers, Sebastian,” the boy replied, snickering, “and rather demanding as well - but under the circumstances, I’ll overlook your impertinence.” He considered giving the presumptuous old crow a little crack of the whip across the chest, but as he couldn’t see what he’d be hitting - and, despite how much he was enjoying Sebastian’s current suffering, he really did not want to hurt him with a carelessly-aimed blow - he opted to cast the crop aside and seize the devil’s erection instead. The harsh growl he got in response was entertaining indeed, and the solid shaft he was gripping throbbed and twitched eagerly in his hands.

Ciel stroked it lightly, seeking out its ridges and contours, and was somewhat surprised to discover that although it was about the same size and shape as the one Sebastian had while he was in his human form, the feel of the skin - was it even _skin_ at all? - was totally different. Gone was the warm, velvety texture Ciel was familiar with, and in its place was something as cold and smooth as glass, completely flawless to the touch, and as his palm ghosted over the tip, a fluid so hot it was almost scalding began to well out of it and run down the shaft in slick, impatient rivulets. The Earl suppressed an undignified squeal of delight at this and began to stroke it anew, his slippery little fingers sliding up and down, up and down, squeezing it in rhythmic, maddening waves that had the helpless demon snarling and thrashing in frustration.

Something in the back of Ciel’s mind, something logical and practical and apprehensive, told him that ingesting the fluid could very well be unpleasant, or even downright dangerous... but as Sebastian had not warned him against doing such a thing, after a moment of careful consideration, the boy’s curiosity won out, and he bent down to take the pulsing head in his mouth. _Surely,_ he reasoned to himself, _Sebastian would stop me from doing this if it would do me harm, wouldn’t he?_ He decided not to dwell on the fact that Sebastian was likely too far gone at that point to speak much English - let alone enough English to _explain_ anything properly - and began to lick and suck in earnest, his clever hands still sliding up and down, up and down.

He had prepared himself for a potential mouthful of bitterness, and possibly even a burnt tongue, but was thrilled to discover the taste wasn’t at all disagreeable; it was actually quite good, verging on delicious, and the rich, sweet flavor was continually changing, like the magical elixir in a bottle marked _DRINK ME_. He lapped at it eagerly, and although the fluid _was_ rather hot, it was no more so than a good cup of tea, and it made his entire mouth tingle with a pleasant heat, as though he were licking the brandy cordial from the middle of a chocolate-covered cherry; the more Ciel licked, the faster the liquid flowed, until he could no longer keep up; it streamed down Sebastian’s cock and between the boy’s fingers, and when it got to be too messy for Ciel’s liking, he began to alternate between sucking at the tip and licking his fingers, occasionally performing the latter action without moving his hand away.

There was no thought. There were no words. The demon ceased his struggling and the internal battle with his supernatural restraint the moment that decadent mouth opened and swallowed the head of his aching cock. His own tongue swept up the black blood that had smeared across his lips, but it was wholly unsatisfying. Sebastian stared at the enthralling little creature between his thighs and that sweet tongue lapping at his most sensitive places, and the demon found he was mesmerized. The cold that seemed born of the darkness and flowed freely from the beast brushed through the boy’s hair, and when Sebastian tried to speak, to say anything, his humanity failed him, and what escaped his raw throat was sharp and sepulchral and not meant for mortal ears. 

Ciel jumped at the inhuman sound, managing to recover just in time to keep himself from biting down accidentally; the tones of the demonic language were discordant and penetrating and sent chills down his spine, like the shriek of fingernails on a writing-slate, and for a moment that ominous, gnawing fear in his gut rose again, threatening to overwhelm him… but the Earl of Phantomhive was no coward, and after taking a moment to bolster his courage, he returned to his task with twice the fervor.

“Look at me, devil,” he commanded harshly. “Look at me, watch me, see what I’m doing to you…” He flicked his tongue over the dripping tip, tasting something akin to strawberry tart, then milk caramel. “You will _never_ forget this moment, Sebastian, do you hear?” He gave that perfectly smooth shaft a vicious squeeze, and when he heard the demon growl in reply, he loosened his grip a bit and continued, “I want you to remember it forever - and long after I am gone, no matter how many thousands of years pass in your immortal life, no matter how many more contracts you make, no matter how many more souls you devour, you will remember that _I_ did this to you. _I_ held you captive and helpless with only a feeble rope and a command. _I_ reduced you, an ancient and immeasurably powerful devil, to a wretched, lustful shambles. _I_ , Ciel Phantomhive - a fragile… human… _child_.” The last three words were punctuated with sweet, mocking kisses, and upon completing the sentence, he opened his mouth as far as possible and swallowed as much of Sebastian’s cock as he could, his lips straining around the thick shaft, the leaking tip brushing the back of his throat.

Sebastian drank in the sight of his Young Master with the fevered ferocity of a man lost in the desert stumbling upon an oasis; his teeth gnashed together as he clawed his way through the haze clouding his mind, and the Faustian mark seared with such intensity that he shuddered with the sensation. Oh, how this “child” enjoyed playing with hellfire - and as a result, Sebastian’s voice was nearly broken and laced with hoarfrost. 

_**”Yes... My Lord.”** _

At the intonation of the phrase, the demon felt a surge of power course through him and then through Ciel, and as the boy’s body reacted, the last shred of Sebastian’s control shattered. He felt his Master devour him, and the bound and _helpless_ creature spent, filling Ciel’s throat with damnation and heat that tasted of sweets and spice, so very familiar to his little contractor.

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know the tip of a riding crop is called the keeper? Well, you do now.
> 
> More to come... lots more!


End file.
